


The Price of Heroism

by Smol_Soviet



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Eventual Smut, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Grief/Mourning, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Possession, Possibly Non-Con?, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Tags May Change, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, ambiguous consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-07-08 15:11:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19871683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smol_Soviet/pseuds/Smol_Soviet
Summary: Y'shtola's words ring in her mind. What will happen to the Warrior of Light if she consumes more corrupted aether from the Sin-Eaters? What will happen when she is overflowing with Light? What would happen if she acts on these new sinister desires?Contains spoilers for FFXIV:ARR through ShadowBringers





	1. Brief Respite

**DISCLAIMER: Portions of this chapter are directly copied from a scene from FFXIV, but slightly altered to suit an alternate narrative**

* * *

Minerva pushed past the ornate wooden doors leading to her private chambers in the Pendants. Outside, people stood out in the open, gawking ever upward to the night sky for the first time in their entire lives. The joy and fascination were infectious, and Minerva found herself feeling genuine, honest hope for the first time in a long time. Slowly, she approached the doors to the balcony and gently eased them open. She stepped out and lightly rested her elbows on the railing, quietly admiring the night sky alongside the Crystarium's populace.

_We really made a difference to these people,_ she thought to herself. _I can do this, I can really help these people._

Minerva slowly dropped her gaze and her face softened with a slight smile. Rarely was she afforded a moment of reprieve like this. Not like in Gyr Abania or Coerthas, when rest was in short supply and stolen between dire emergencies. When real sleep was reserved for the dead and the dying. This felt like the months after Ultima before the Warrior of Light was tossed around from hand to hand halting the next crisis. Before the mantle became her way of life when she was just an equal of the Scions. At least, that's what she hoped she would be at the time, an equal. But is it really so different now? After all, now she was the Warrior of Light _and_ the Warrior of Darkness! She traded one hero status in her home for another in this reflection. Minerva's expression tightened back and her brow furrowed, then a thought stuck with her and the frustration was molded into sadness.

_Warrior of Darkness..._ She remembered those faces, those phantoms that haunted her dreams. _The Warriors of Darkness._ How could she forget? Yet, they hadn't crossed her mind until now, not consciously. After all, this was their home, wasn't it? The First, the world they ultimately doomed while trying to save it. It was so unfair, such a cruel twist of fate bestowed upon their good intentions. And then, when everything came to a boiling point and conflict broke out between the Warriors of Darkness and the Scions, her heartstrings were teased but ultimately denied happiness.

A familiar feeling slithered its way into Minerva's heart, a _dangerous_ feeling, one she was very careful to keep tucked away deep inside. She caught a sharp breath and shook her head from side to side, clenching her eyes shut and gently giving her cheeks a quick _smack-smack_ with her open palms.

_Now is not the time for sadness! Now is a time for celebration and relaxation!_ Minerva gave her cheeks a stern tug with her forefingers and thumbs, the playful gesture easing her down from her anxiety. She gave the night sky one last yearnful glance, a tiny smile played on her lips, and walked back into her room. In that moment she decided a nice, hot, quiet bath would do wonders for her mind.

As she drew the bath and let the faucets run, Minerva peeled her dirty, sweaty gear from her body down to her smallclothes and began looking herself over in the large vanity mirror. Her arms, waist, and thighs were riddled with large discolored bruises, rivaling the navy blue sheen of her scaled body. Being the Warrior of Light did come with its perks, no matter how much of a headache playing nice and doing others' dirty work was. The amount of punishment Minerva could receive was unthinkable to other mortals. Reaching a tentative hand to a particularly nasty blackened patch of skin on her ribs, she immediately winced and recoiled. She had definitely broken at least a couple in the fight with the Lightwarden.

Her mind drifted back to the fight momentarily, and how she blasted a hole through the oppressive cloak of light pervading the realm. Her work wasn't over yet. There was still so much to do before the threat of Sin-Eaters could ever be no more than an afterthought to the people of Norvrandt. The people here needed her help. Minerva caught herself spacing out and she just stared at her reflection, into her grey eyes. She just stood there for a moment, taking herself in, this woman who so many relied on for salvation. How did people see her?

She played with the thought for a moment and decided in confidence that she probably comes off as intimidating for all the wrong reasons. She'd seen it before plenty of times. This petite, pale Auri girl with stark white rings around her pupils and an ever-so-gentle demeanor introduces herself as the godsdamned _Warrior of Light_ and you're just supposed to take that lying down? More often than not, men would balk at her in disbelief. Until, that is, she offers to shake their hand with the strongest grip this side of the Golden Saucer while maintaining the same air of innocence. Men are intimidated by strong women, but they are _terrified_ of confident women.

Minerva huffed a small laugh and turned to layout some ointments and bandages for after she bathed. She'd spent enough time in contemplation for the large tub to nearly overflow.

She passed an hour there soaking in the pleasant warmth, trying to enjoy the momentary peace for as long as she could. After she finished up and drained the water, Minerva set to the task of applying the ointment to the most tender areas of her body and tieing off a large bandage around the bottom of her ribcage. The sooner she could get to bed, the better. Every passing minute she became more and more aware of how much she needed this rest. After slipping into some nightclothes, she extinguished all of the lights but left the balcony doors open.

It didn't take long for the Warrior of Light to succumb to fatigue and drift off into a deep sleep. Tomorrow was another day, and she would have to again walk the path of Hero.

* * *

_Minfilia..._

It was impossible. There was no way in all of creation did she go unnoticed. No way that she eluded a year of search for her. And yet, Urianger called to her. He beseeched Hydaelyn to grant those gathered in the void between worlds an audience with Her chosen. Her Minfilia. _Minerva's_ Minfilia. Her gaze tore from the Warriors of Darkness and affixed on the pleading Elezen, confusion, sorrow, and desperation in her eyes.

"No.. No no no," she murmured, "It can't be." Then a voice proclaimed from on high, and something dead in Minerva's heart crawled out of hiding.

"Your cries go not unhead... nor your sacrifices unnoticed," the voice spoke.

Minerva tensed and urgency had taken hold of her body. She frantically searched the vast emptiness for the source of the voice, looking finally upward. A blinding light descended from on high and the voice continued to speak, though all too familiar, it was also different and laced with the voice of another. She was too entranced, too stricken by memories of the past that she no longer heard the voices speaking around her. As the light descended to the level of the ten gathered souls, it flared even brighter and a figure emerged.

"It _is_ you," Minerva whispered. Her jaw hung slightly agape and already tears began brimming in her eyes at the sight of the luminescent figure before her. Minfilia smiled and turned to speak to the Warriors of Darkness opposite her. All the while Minerva still could not grasp the reality before her: her beloved was in front of her, an emissary possessing the power and the voice of the Great Mother. Her hands and legs began to quiver as a storm of emotion washed over her mind. _What happened? Where had she gone? Why was she here?_ The young Au ra began to lose composure as tempers flared and the hyur brandished his ax and charged Minfilia. Minerva weakly raised a hand but before anything made contact, Minfilia raised a hand and willed the heavy blade to halt its motion.

Minfilia calmed the man and continued speaking but Minerva was deaf to them. This couldn't be real, this _wasn't_ real. She turned to face the Scions and gave a warm smile.

"Thank you Urianger, for bringing everyone here. It fills my heart with joy to look upon the faces of my friends once more," Minfilia spoke.

"In taking you unto Her bosom, I knew Hydaelyn had bequeathed to you a sliver of Her grace, granting you strength long sought," Urianger replied. "And in treating with the Ascians, I learned of a star like unto our own - a doomed world of fallen heroes, in whom I glimpsed ourselves. The First. Full long did I search for a means to save this world, concluding at the last that the answer lay in the power of blessed crystals. And thus did I labor to set Light against Dark.

"Yet I knew from the beginning that this salvation would not come without sacrifice, for the instrument of the First's deliverance would of necessity be required to journey thither... there to remain, mayhap forever," Urianger finished.

Alphinaud interjected. "You orchestrated all of this not to save her, but to send her away?!"

Urianger's gaze hardened. "One life for one world. Such was the bargain, and you the coin, though it were not mine to spend," Urianger concluded with a grim expression as he regarded Minfilia.

Minerva stared at Urianger, tears still streaming down her paling cheeks. A mix of sorrow, anger, and regret contorted her expression.

"- If this be the price I must pay, I pay it gladly," Minfilia finished, though Minerva was too distracted to hear the beginning of her statement.

Thancred was solemn before speaking. "...You would go alone then?."

"My dearest Thancred... You who have ever watched over me... I am truly grateful for all you have done on my behalf, as would my father be. Your kindness, your compassion, your love... These are your gifts to me, and our gifts to them, forming a bond which transcends time and space."

Thancred clenched his fist, but his expression lightened. "Sometimes I forget you are not the child I once knew. Make me proud."

Minerva warily approached Minfilia, her hands slowly outstretching to grasp her lover's. Minfilia's warm expression never faltered, even as Minerva was overcome with emotion.

"My dear, sweet Minerva," Minfilia whispered.

"I've missed you so much," Minerva sobbed. The composed mask of the Warrior of Light had long been shattered, leaving just a lonely woman who had grieved for a year at what she thought long lost. Heavy tears began to streak her flushed cheeks as she wept.

* * *

Minerva's eyes snapped open and a jolt of adrenaline spiked her veins. She bolted up and frantically scrambled to free her limbs from the damp sheets. From head to toe, she was coated in sweat and panic threated to gnaw at the edges of her mind. Eyes darting from wall to wall to doors then windows, she scanned for anything out of place but found nothing. Pulling her knees into her chest, she sat in the center of the bed and quietly rocked slowly from side to side, a few small tears tugging at the corners of her eyes.

_It was only a dream, just a dream._ She repeated that to herself for several minutes, a mantra to ward off despair from inching any further into her mind. A few hiccups escaped her chest, and the tears came harder now.

"I miss you so much..."


	2. Conflict of Interest

* * *

The days following the fall of the first Lightwarden went by in a daze. The morning after the night sky returned to Lakeland, Minerva and company reported to the Ocular to discuss the events unfolding there. Apparently, Eulmore would not take the slaying of a Warden lying down as Lord Vauthry openly declared the Warrior of Darkness a villain and those who would aid or abed them guilty of the sin as well. More troubling, however, was the news of their actions in Lakeland, and moreover, the prisoner they had taken into custody.

"They have taken the Oracle of Light, Minfilia, as a prisoner," captain Lyna reported.

"I'm sorry, they've taken... _who_ as a prisoner?" Minerva asked, crossing her arms.

That was when she learned of the savior revered by the people of the First as the Oracle of Light, Minfilia. She who halted the flood and the generations of girls reincarnated, again and again, to do battle with and die at the hands of Sin-Eaters. Every fifteen years, another girl would become the new Minfilia and fight on the frontlines in service to Eulmore's offensive against the Sin-Eaters. This knowledge deeply troubled the Warrior of Light and set a cold edge in her demeanor. How much truth to this was there? And what did this mean for the Minfilia she knew? So many questions with disturbing implications, all left wanting.

With their course of action shifting to rescue this girl, who Minerva was told was originally rescued by Thancred from Eulmore years prior, the Scions set out on an operation to confront the Eulmoran troops. With a heart full of conflicting emotions, Minerva tried swallowing past the hard knot in her throat and departed for Lakeland.

* * *

The Warrior of Light stood in her private chambers again, heavily leaning on the counter before her reflection. True to form, the Exarch and her friends bade her retire to her room again for rest as they had done several times now after other battles. At first, she politely tried to decline, but they persisted and their insistence usually won her over. Now, however, as her condition began to deteriorate, she put up much less resistance to recuperation.

Two Lightwardens lies dead at Minerva's feet, and two Warden's worth of corrupted aether flows through her veins. Though it went unnoticed at first, she now recognized that her fatigue was a result of felling the first Warden. Now, with the death of the second, Minerva began to feel incredibly ill. Things had gone downhill since the return of night to the First, with the recurring nightmare and the sickness only being the tip of the iceberg. Now Eulmore was engaging in open conflict with those they suspected of harboring 'villains'.

She still couldn't fathom that perverted city of pleasure and indulgence. How could the people there be so content to live out their days in abundance and luxury while others were barred entry and slaughtered in their homes outside? Lord Vauthry truly turned Minerva's stomach with his vile methods of keeping the Sin-Eaters subdued. Their _great_ and _benevolent_ master fed living souls to the eaters like domestic pets, in what he called a paradise.

Then there was the all-too complicated matter regarding the girl. After saving this world's current Minfilia, tensions rose and tempers flared among the Scions. On more than one occasion, Thancred and the Warrior of Light butted heads and argued about the young girl. It started with Thancred accusing Minerva of lusting after the girl because of the way she looked at her. In truth, she simply didn't know how to approach her from the start and was disgusted by Thancred's insinuation that she was infatuated with a child. Deep down, she felt some kind of attachment to the young Minfilia, something she felt akin to the bond of mother and daughter. Internally she balked at the notion but it led her mind down the path of just where exactly the girl came from, and pondered the thought of _her_ Minfilia being this girl's spiritual mother instead. Minerva attributed this realization to the origin of the bond she felt in the first place, which Thancred proved none-to-pleased about all the same.

At first, things were awkward between Minerva and Minfilia. She never outright spoke of her Minfilia around the young girl, however, there was no denying she was the spitting image of her beloved. Not knowing how to sort out her conflicting feelings, Minerva kept her distance for the time being. Corrupt empires, mighty dragons, scheming Ascians, all of these she could deal with. But this? Nothing had prepared her for this. She was now traveling with a ghost, a reflection of her past lover. How was she supposed to deal with this? Was she supposed to be happy? Thankful that she was allowed to see her face again? Or was this just a sick joke to force her grief onto a living person? She was lost in thought as the door to her room creaked open.

"Ms. Alonis? Are you here?"

Minerva jumped in surprise at the sudden arrival. She turned to see who was in the doorway, only to find it was the person she least wanted to see right now: Minfilia.

"Ah! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you," the young girl shyly apologized. "The door was just open and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"No! No, it's alright," Minerva breathed out. She released a small sigh to relieve the pressure in her chest from the surprise, "Is everything alright?"

"Y-yes! As I said, I just wanted to make sure you were alright, after- after fighting Titania, that is."

"Yes, yes I'm doing fine. Minus a few cuts and bruises but it will pass." Minerva shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying not to maintain eye contact for too long. "Thank you, Min-Minfilia," she stuttered. It was still so odd and uncomfortable calling her that.

The younger girl's expression of concern softened some and she gave a light smile. "That's good, after everything today, you looked... very tired, and unwell. If you do still feel that way, I'm sure I could fetch Urianger for you."

"Thank you... but, that shouldn't be necessary," Minerva replied with a small, deliberate smile.

Minfilia returned the smile, then turned to leave. Minerva twitched and her heart sped for a moment.

"I-" she began, but didn't have the words. There was still so much she wanted to say, to ask. She wanted - _needed -_ answers still. "Wait," she blurted, unconsciously reaching a hand out toward the girl. Minfilia stopped and turned her head back, heeding her call.

The girl very slightly cocked her head to the side, and Minerva fumbled for words again. She hadn't had an opportunity to speak with her in private, and now that the chance was here, what did she so desperately need to say? What was so important that she didn't want anyone to hear?

"I..." She stuttered again. Minerva averted her eyes for a moment and absently scratched at the back of her head. "Do you... do you remember anything? From... from..." She already regretted saying anything. _Gods, what am I doing?!_ _She isn't her, she's not coming back._

Minfilia's eyes slightly widened and her gaze distanced itself from the room. Minerva had no time to react as her mind took on the familiar haze and astral projection of the Echo. But this time it was different, this time she felt her soul being steered inward. She wasn't looking at Minfilia's past memories, she was being pulled and vicariously experiencing her own past. Her emotions were too intense and Minfilia was unwillingly dragged into her mind through her own power of the Echo.

_No... No no no please by the Twelve no! Not like this, please just stop!_ But it was already too late, her memories flowed like a river, flashing everything from the mundane and innocent to the most private and intimate before the forefront of their minds in an instant. _I beg you, please make it stop..._ As a small mercy, in response to Minerva's effort to close off her mind, the grip of the Echo waned then finally released. She unclenched her eyes and met Minfilia's equally bleary gaze. The strength threatened to leave her body as her mind swam in a sickening delirium.

Minfilia's expression conveyed a heavy sorrow, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. "I, I'm sorry, I don't. Please forgive me, I should go." She was solemn and brief, quickly turning on a heel and leaving the private quarters.

With her strength faltering, Minerva slumped back against the glamour dresser behind her. Large beads of sweat dripped down her face and she stared in shock at the open door. _My... my God. She saw... everything._


	3. Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me if I keep repeating this trend of "questing/cutscenes happen off-screen and Minerva ponders things that are not canon" but I really don't enjoy rehashing or copying scenes as I did in chapter one. The need for me to copy the scene for chapter one was born of necessity. I'm also not super fond of just time-skipping and having Minerva casually recap the recent past. I'm trying real hard to get to the meat of this fic where things start getting interesting, however, once again necessity dictates my actions prior to that point.
> 
> I may alter these early chapters in response to any suggestions, but as of now I don't know which route is better, so I'm sticking to my current method and briefly recapping from scene to scene.

* * *

Upon bridging the gap between Lakeland and the Rak'tika Greatwood, the overall sickness plaguing Minerva was drastically reduced while under the cover of light once again. Out in the open, however, it was like her body was a pressurized vessel ready to burst at the seams. Though the sensation of her symptoms subsiding was likened unto that of medicinal, perhaps even conjural aid, she knew better. She knew it was the aether contained within her trying to escape her grasp to find a new host, and that more of the selfsame aether outside her body equalized the pressure of its influence. Minerva began to have doubts about her ability to see the mission through to its conclusion.

Minerva had taken it upon herself to scout the area ahead of her comrades. She had taken it upon herself to do a lot of things by herself lately. She didn't need anyone doting on her because of her condition, and she could barely stomach being anywhere near Minfilia since that night. Minerva's mood became drastically more foul since undertaking this campaign to return darkness to Norvrandt. So much so that she at times caught herself feeling resentment towards those around her. Whenever she became conscious of these feelings, she put up a stern effort to dissuade these thoughts.

Over the last day, they had made significant progress toward reaching the heart of the Greatwood. Unlike Il Mheg to the west and Amh Araeng to the south, the climate in Rak'tika was bursting with lush vegetation and - as the name would suggest - enormous trees like which Minerva had never laid eyes upon. Inside the massive canopies of the forest, the air was thick and muggy. After trekking several malms into the Greatwood, the heat and humidity forced Minerva to change to her light gazelleskin and molybdenum gear for the remainder of their travels.

Deeming the ruined settlement Urianger described as safe, Minerva rejoined the group as they approached the abandoned structures. They briefly searched for signs life but quickly decided Y'shtola would not be found here. Upon coming to this decision, a shift in the ambient noise around them was the only warning they were given.

"Now! Surround them!"

* * *

The weight of the titles of Warriors of Light and Darkness carried drastically different responsibilities and significance between the Source and the First. On the Source, the Warrior of Light was seen as a weapon, a valuable friend to have in your corner to change the tide in your favor. The Warrior was a commodity in short supply and high demand. On the First, however, the Warrior of Darkness was more akin to that of a higher being, a savior, a god. Only those of the Scions, the Crystal Exarch and his trusted guard captain were privy to the identity of the Warrior of Darkness. Y'shtola thought that for the best, since in this world the greatest military power - Eulmore - sought the death of the Warrior of Darkness and her compatriots.

Though the initial encounter between the Scions and the Night’s Blessed was hostile - under the false pretense that one of their number was instead a powerful Sin-Eater - things were much more open and welcoming now that there were proper introductions. Y’shtola did not at first recognize her old friend, much to Minerva’s concern, but her realization after she spoke was unmistakable. What was once suspicion and caution was quickly transformed into Y’shtola’s signature wit and a warm welcome to an old friend. After all, if not for her, the two of them likely never would have shared in such rich accomplishments. However, in the same vein, they would not have suffered the same devastations to have come and gone.

Y’shtola would not yet openly speak with her about it, but she was deeply worried about the repercussions of the Exarch’s plan and Minerva’s role in it. It was plain to see through her widened perception that Minerva was deeply changed because of her efforts. Yet there was still so much more of Norvrandt to be liberated from the Light.

"Urianger, I know what I saw," Y'shtola pleaded with the archon. Urianger's gaze hardened, his hands clenched into fists upon his knees. "The light wasn't suffused, it was absorbed. If it doesn't turn her, it will kill her."

The stubborn elezen still avoided her eyes and offered no rebuttal.

"Please, if you saw anything else in your vision, pray reconsider your secrecy and share with us, I beg you," Y'shtola persisted, though not for long. Her conviction had tempered itself and she stopped trying to goad answers from her enigmatic friend. The furrow in her brow deepened, "At the very least, she must be told."

* * *

Minerva's closed fist hovered ilms from the door. Mere seconds before she rapped her knuckles against the wood, she could overhear Y'shtola's voice in the room beyond. She was not shocked to hear the topic of discussion, but it did serve to stir the pool of doubt in her mind. Dropping her hand back to her side and narrowing her gaze, Minerva reconsidered her actions, instead deciding to take this free time to recluse and reflect. She wordlessly exited Slitherbough and found comfort in solitude.

After aimlessly wandering for a time, she settled on the high arch of a partially-submerged root from a nearby Greatwood. She spent several hours there, lost in thought and gazing into the murky waters below. Soon, she would be exploring those depths, searching for a lost Ronkan artifact. But that was a problem for tomorrow. Today, it was simply a mirror for contemplation. While it was a relief that her sickness had subsided here, she was not so naive as to treat its absence as a blessing. Very soon, she would slay the Warden here, and repeat this cycle again. Minerva absently picked a fibrous strand from the bark and twiddled it in her fingers.

A soft flutter drifted on the wind behind her, ending in a quiet _'pomf'_ sound at her side. Quickly turning her head at the sound, her attention shifted to a small, ruffled bird just a couple fulms to her right. It was a small finch, quickly bobbing and twitching on the root next to her. Narrowing her eyes, she began to notice its movements were strained and spastic. It struggled to maintain its posture when standing still, as if its legs may be injured. Minerva began to fixate on the bird as its struggle persisted, her eyes still narrowed. It would periodically let out short, shrill chirps and quickly extend and retract its wings. She tilted her head while remaining still and silent when the finch finally lowered into a sitting position, its movements drastically slowing as its extremities receded into its body. She sat there for a long moment just staring at the small creature after ceasing its frantic disposition.

The cracking of branches at the shore behind her stole away Minerva's attention and her head snapped back toward the disturbance. Before finding the source, a blurry, numb feeling washed over her mind and her focus was disoriented. She pinched the bridge of her nose momentarily in response to the pain between her temples. Standing back to her full height, she turned to find the sound emanating from a figure walking along the shore. Through the ringing and pain that now pulsed through her head, focusing on the figure proved difficult. For just a moment, Minerva thought she was watching Minfilia - _her_ Minfilia - walking down the length of the shore. Upon further inspection, she realized it was Minfilia of the First, and the now-familiar pang of guilt shot through her heart. She hated that feeling, that hopeless hang-your-head-in-shame kind of feeling she got whenever she saw the girl.

Minfilia didn't notice her, however. She was walking between the massive trees with a deliberate air about her. Minerva recognized that she was doing a regular chore given by Thancred: charging his gunblade cartridges with the surrounding aether. With her attention finally being stolen away from her trance-like state, Minerva decided it best if she headed back to Slitherbough to rest before tomorrow's expedition. With one great heave, she launched herself through the air toward the shore. With any luck, the younger girl would still be absorbed by her task and Minerva would go unnoticed through the forest.

Unbeknownst to her, the perch from which she spent the last few hours had become blackened and soft. The strand of wood fibers she held was reduced to a pile of withered ash, and the small finch bobbed in the water below, still and lifeless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie y'all, I'm struggling. I pounded out those first two chapters with so much enthusiasm and inspiration that I thought I could knock out three more within a week. As of writing this, it's been eleven days since I started writing this chapter. My mental health is kicking my butt right now, even when I so desperately want to write this. So the inspiration is still there, but the enthusiasm is taking a short break. I'm not super proud of the latter half of this chapter, but we're gonna make do with what we're given.
> 
> I'm going to try my best to keep this at or as close as I can get to my personal quality standard, but until I can work on my brain stuff it's going to be a bit tricky
> 
> See you on the other side~


	4. Resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally going to include some lengthy flashbacks of Minfilia/Minerva development for backstory, but it absolutely derailed and murdered my motivation to write. I may come back and add it in/separate this chapter into multiple to facilitate, or add a single chapter story as the in-between for their relationship - which I do very much want to expand on, but sad stuff is more important right now! None of that mushy shit! On with the show!

* * *

Time passed, obstacles were overcome, adversaries bested, and a destiny upheld. The Warrior marched on, slayer of gods and men alike, with another demon borne of Light at her feet. The third Lightwarden is dead, but there was little joy in the act. The Scions waited on bated breath as Minerva stood before the fallen Eros, spear in one hand firmly planted in the ground with an adamant grip. She opened her eyes and beheld the great beast for just a moment longer before its form inevitably dissolved into blinding aether.

The Warrior of Darkness raised her free hand, offering a path of least resistance for the aether to enter her being, searching for its new host. Minerva steeled her mind and body as the hot, spiny tendrils of energy passed first through her arm, then pooled in her chest and radiating from there to her head and limbs. Her nerves bristled and sparked at the intrusion, burning her from within like a vicious inferno, then she opened her heart and let cascade her own light from the Mother's Blessing. The inner discourse of her aether battling to disperse this evil essence was more familiar now than the other times, but it was so much more intense now.

The corruptive force billowed and swelled within her, slamming against the inner barriers of her mind and soul. Lesser beings would buckle and collapse under the immense weight of the monstrous energy, but Minerva was far from a lesser being. She called upon her years of experience suppressing the blood of the First Brood and imposed her own iron will against the infesting aether. Her efforts bore success, and the aether was contained within her being, albeit barely. Minerva closed her eyes and her knuckles went white from her grip on the lance.

 _Now comes the real test..._ Minerva's tail twitched restlessly from side to side and the hair on her neck stood on end. More now than ever, she steeled herself. As if her life depended on it, she braced every fiber of her being against the force to come. She was afraid, deathly afraid of the night sky sure to appear mere seconds from now. Sure enough, the sky parted and the everlasting cover of light faded, revealing for the third time the night sky. Then it came. Like a raging tidal wave, it came. An all-consuming flood of light. The first to go was her orientation, then the pressure squeezed on her mind from every angle. An angry presence gripped Minerva's skull and sundered her world to the core. The next to go was her executive functions, a drastic step away from the pressure on her mind as panic quickly took the reigns. She struggled to remain on two feet as both hands gripped either side of her temples, useless to deter the suffering therein.

Her mind was far away, her surroundings superficial and unimportant. All that mattered now was survival and making the pain stop. Anything to stop the pain. Consciousness waned and the world started going black. She tried to scream, unaware if her voice even functioned anymore, then she collapsed. All that existed now was pain and that deep, bottomless black.

* * *

A dreamless sleep was all that remained. Vague, indecipherable sensations, tingles and twitches from the nervous system. The occasional itch, parched throat, and clammy skin wafted through perception, but never for too long. Consciousness and sense of self remained enigmatic at best and unfathomable in the deep below. The only constants were the black void, a theater for any of the stronger stimuli, and the somewhat lukewarm rays passing through it. The rays were a welcome presence to break up the overall cold and damp emptiness, offering a radiating glow from no single discernable direction.

At times, the rays grew too hot, and any of the smaller stimuli dripping into the sea of black were boiled away and forgotten quickly. It got so hot that the veiled surface of the black void began to bubble and distort. The semblances of memories began to poke upward toward the surface, begging to be free of the smothering heat. Consciousness stirred, slowly, without direction or purpose. The more solid things became graspable again; the concept of touch, holding things, smelling and seeing. Senses regained purpose, a mind mending itself bit by bit. The memories of the physical things became familiar now. Places and people were difficult to recall, however. Specifics were still far beyond grasp. Names, faces, relationships, goals and aspirations, none of it had any weight yet, just ideas full of air.

_Hear..._

The churning heat of the boiling deep began to subside, softening the spastic and impatient process of mending. The reprieve offered more insight into the bits of information gathered here and there, floating and dancing along to a silent anthem. Thoughts were becoming cohesive now, and more complete. Mental faculties were maturing and retaking control of cognitive function.

_Hear..._

That voice, so far away but still discernible through the haze. Focus... focusing senses was the next goal. The sea of conscious and unconsciousness began to swell now as more complex thought and reason formed in the mindscape.

_"What are you?"_

It was a question, but not one being asked right now. It was... familiar, but disconnected. There was still so much unknown, so much context needed for these far-flung memories to make any sense.

 _"Minerva Alonis, is it? An' a fine name it is."_ This one was much older and more helpful, it was important. It was where everything started. The mindscape was finally being defined, the sense of self was understood and grasped at. It took a great deal of effort though, the mind was still sluggish and heavy from something. But, there was the name finally, individuality. Minerva. _Minerva, me, Minerva Alonis. I am me._

Minerva found herself again, though still entirely unsure of anything but her name and current circumstances. She wasn't aware enough to contemplate her physical condition or her state of mind. Right now all that mattered was a sense of continuity, remembering enough to put some of the pieces back together.

_Hear... Feel..._

The voice again. This time there was definitive recognition. She remembered this from the same day she found the memory of her name. This was the first time she heard the Mother, Hydaelyn. Though, something was off. This wasn't quite a memory, was it? This was louder, sharper than the foggy soup of memory floating in her limited view of the mindscape. At that moment, she could feel the vast ocean of subconsciousness lighten and expand, as though it was compressed until now. The rays of light emanating from below also gained clarity and definition. Through her swirling body of impulses, impressions, and memories, she could feel the beams of light sifting throughout her mind, making adjustments along the way.

Without her behest, she was taken back to that fateful day once more. Limsa Lominsa, Baderon, the guilds. Minerva was being taken on a tour of the day that would change her life forever. Eorzea was so much different than she had expected, nothing like the Steppe. Her induction into modern society there was... difficult, to say the least. The social hierarchy of the tribes was nothing like this, all were welcome and treated as equals in this land. At least, it had seemed that way at face value, her later adventures would assuage that naive perception of this country.

Before her mind could linger further, the memories continued like a river and she was ushered through the day once more. She recalled investigating a series of abductions, which lead her to a chance encounter with Y'shtola Rhul. Before they could become acquainted, it quickly dawned that they had been lead into a trap. An enraged goobbue was drawn into the cave and engaged the pair. Though minor in retrospect, this was Minerva's first real test of will, her first challenge to overcome. After felling the creature, it also proved to be the catalyst for her life to begin the path of becoming a hero. This was the moment she found one of the Crystals of Light.

_Hear... Feel... Think..._

Without any time to contemplate the memory, or even if the voice was from the memory or something she was experiencing at the moment, the Echo pulled Minerva. Its influence sped up the mending of her mental faculties like nothing else she was capable of doing herself, and all of the missing components began to fall back into place. Memory by memory, ilm by ilm her mind regained its stability and completion. This sensation too was cut short as the Echo encapsulated her entire existence, severing her connection to the present after having just reassembled it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truth be told, I've had this section written for months with intentions of stretching it out to several times its length. As stated in the first note, however, my motivation has been chilling in a morgue for a nap. At this moment, I sit prepared to finally continue, mental health be damned. I'm going to continue my passion come hell or high water.
> 
> Keep an eye out, dear reader. It's about to get heavy, quick.
> 
> See you on the other side~


End file.
